


Toes in the Sand

by Piper_Halliwell1979



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angelic Possession, Angst, Condescending Michael, Emotional Hurt, Fantasy, Internal Dialogue, M/M, Possession, Post-Season/Series 13, Self-Esteem Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-15 00:00:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14779748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Piper_Halliwell1979/pseuds/Piper_Halliwell1979
Summary: Dean sees himself with Sam and Castiel on the beach. It's perfect. Or is it?





	Toes in the Sand

The warmth of the sun was kept tempered by the ocean breeze. Waves crashed on the shore a few feet from their beach chairs. Dean dug his toes down into the sand and sipped from his fancy cocktail. Well, fancy for him. Almost too sweet and heavy on the Bacardi. Perfect.

 

Sammy was to his right, reading some airport gift shop paperback instead of lore. He had his Hawaiian shirt open and board shorts on. He looked ridiculous and adorable at the same time. Dean wondered if Sam ever did this in his Stanford years, just a kid on the beach in the sun. 

 

Cas sat to his left, looking completely out of his element in beachwear. But the blue in his Hawaiian shirt made his eyes pop even more. And he somehow looked perfectly tan despite Dean never seeing him out sunning himself. Beyond the sight of a completely relaxed angel was the faintest shadow of wings blowing with the breeze.

 

Sam marked his page and stood up. “I’m getting another drink. You guys need a refill?”

 

“Sure, Sammy. ‘Nother one of these fruity drinks. Lots of fruit,” Dean replied. 

 

“I’ll have another strawberry daquiri, please.” Cas held up his empty glass. When Sam left he raised his sunglasses and looked at Dean. “I love Sam, but did you have to bring him along on our honeymoon?”

 

That’s when Dean noticed the glint of light coming from Cas’ hand.  _ Honeymoon? _ Dean cast his eyes down to his own hand. It held a matching band.  _ Shit _ .  _ Not real.  _ He didn’t remember marrying Cas. Or the airport where Sam got his book. 

 

_ Michael. The feathered dickbag caged me up. Showed me a...fantasy. Thinks it’ll keep me docile while he drives the meatsuit. I ain’t buying what you're sellin’, asshole!  _ He screamed inside.

 

“Mr. Winchester...give you everything you've dreamed of and you still question it. Says something about you. So broken. Tell me, what gave it away?”

 

_ None of your fucking business, Mikey. _

 

“No, really. I’m quite curious. I was sure it was a pleasant memory I found.”

 

_ Never happened, dick.  _

 

“So you are not in an abominable union between human and angel? You have so many memories of your Castiel. Some of them quite dark and...violent. And yet...I see intimate moments between you. You say these are not memories. This confuses me.”

 

_ I’m a human, Mikey. Humans daydream, fantasize outside of their regular lives. It’s an escape from reality. Don’t mean it’s ever gonna happen. _

 

“So ideally, you see yourself married to Castiel because it is preferred over the reality where you are not. Hmm. I see. Hold onto your  _ fantasy _ , Mr. Winchester. Because it will most certainly not be a reality. Even if you were to somehow outlast me, who are you, a lowly human, to a seraph?”

 

Dean retreated into himself again. Michael was right. Who the hell was he? A fucked up old drunk with more Daddy issues than Lucifer. That’s who the hell he was. The man who practically spit in the face of the angel who saved him from saying yes to Michael the first go around. The clingy...child who risked everything for a chance to have a mother again. A brother who was so caught up in his own grief and drama that he didn’t see the pain Sam was in over Lucifer. A shitty stepdad to a kid who just wanted to be loved and accepted.

 

He wanted a drink. He wanted to scream and throw things. Hurt something. Break something. Something besides himself, his heart. So what if he did beat Michael? What was he going home to? Disappointment and an empty bed. He closed his eyes and tried to get back on the beach.

 

There it was. Castiel leaned over for a chaste kiss. It tasted sweet, like his frozen drink. His hand went to Dean’s and threaded their fingers together.

 

“Here ya go, lovebirds,” Sam handed them their refills. “I uh...got the bartender's number so you guys won’t have me as a third wheel tonight. I’m glad I’m here but...you newlyweds deserve some time to yourselves.”

 

“Thank you, Sammy. Maybe me and Mr. Winchester over here will take us a nice romantic stroll on the beach. Whaddya say, husband?”

 

“I say it sounds perfect, husband.” Castiel kissed the back of his hand.

 

Dean leaned back in his chair and kneaded his toes into the warm sand. He let the sound of the waves soothe him.


End file.
